


Begging on My Knees

by dramiome



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angry Sex, Bathroom Sex, Begging, Bruises, Dark Mark (Harry Potter), Death Eater Draco Malfoy, Enemy Lovers, F/M, Hogwarts Era, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Love Bites, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Smut, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:13:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29170143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramiome/pseuds/dramiome
Summary: There was once a time Draco Malfoy would’ve relished at the thought of Hermione Granger begging on her knees like the Mudblood she is. But instead it just annoyed him. “You’re pathetic, Granger, on your knees begging on the disgusting floor, exactly where you belong. ” TOXIC DRAMIONE TOXIC DRACO one shot SMUT
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 14
Kudos: 76





	1. Chapter 1

**Begging On My Knees**

“ _Please_ , Draco, tell me it’s not true”, he watched her speak brokenly. Her voice was cracked, her eyes were bleary and her pleas were desperate.

He remained where he stood, now looking at the cold lavatory floor, his face unmoving and unwavering, unable to look at her any longer.

She fell to her knees in front of him, he couldn’t escape her. His cold eyes bore into hers, so warm yet desolate. “ _Please_ ”,she begged her hands clutched together in a prayer, the moonlight streaming in and illuminating her skin. Despite himself, she appeared as an angel before him.

There was once a time Draco Malfoy would’ve relished at the thought of Hermione Granger begging on her knees like the Mudblood she is. But instead it just annoyed him and not even like she was a bug on his shoe, the annoyance he felt stemmed internally. He was annoyed that she actually _cared_.

“What is it to you”, he finally snapped, “you’re a filthy mudblood, you knew what we were doing was going to end like this! In tears”, he seethed, his lips twisted into a sneer as he looked down at her. This is how it should be he reminded himself, she was inferior to him. “You’re pathetic, Granger, on your knees _begging_ on the disgusting floor, exactly where you belong. ”

He swore he could see her whole body fall dejectedly at his words. He saw the shadow of her heart break from the way her chest spasmed. He may as well have ripped out her heart with his bare hands. Though he easily could’ve, It’s not like it actually effected him.

“I don’t care what you say”, she replied in a hoarse voice and the words truly triggered him to respond heatedly, despite himself.

“But you _should_ ”, he fumed. “You are nothing to me, Granger, merely a convenient fuck”, his lip curled displaying his distaste. “A poor lapse in judgment on my part”.

“I don’t believe you.”, she stated simply, those big brown eyes looking up at him through her thick lashes. “I know you feel something”, her words struck a nerve he didn’t know existed, “you hate yourself for it, but you feel something. I _know_ you do!”, she spoke with a conviction he didn’t feel. “You’re a spineless fucking coward”.

Suddenly he pulled her up, angered by her words and she released a small sharp cry in surprise. He was relieved she’d locked the door as she entered and conjured a silencing chair because if anyone was to witness this, he’d be considerably fucked. His hand slithered around her neck, his face so close to hers that when he spoke the words ghosted over her cheek, “you know _nothing_ , Granger”, his tone menacing and hand applying pressure to her throat.

She didn’t even struggle against his grip, instead she paced her breathing to accommodate the restrictive flow, highlighting how fucked up this was to Draco. His eyes darted around her face looking for signs of insanity but she stared back at him, her eyes hard and unwavering.

Releasing her from his clutches, he pushed her against the nearby wall with an arm across her chest to keep her constricted. She recoiled from the abrupt force before steadying herself with her face below his neck, her breath laboured. “I know nothing?”, she raised a brow, “I know you want me”, she whispered her words upward so they caressed his neck, it’s as if a switch flipped inside her.“If I disgust you so much, why do I arouse you like nobody else?”, she enquired in that same hushed tone. She was playing a dangerous game.

Draco felt a familiar sensation stir behind his navel, if their classmates could see them now. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “Stop it, Granger!”, he instructed as his free hand smacked into the wall beside her head, so close to clipping her. “What are you trying to achieve?”, he asked through gritted teeth, his forehead now resting downward on hers

“Tell me the answer. To what I asked before. Is it true?”, he didn’t like the waver in her voice and he didn’t like the disappointment he knew she’d feel. And he also didn’t like that he didn’t like that. He was erratic, his thoughts a jumbled mess, hazed by lust in the air.

“Don’t ask questions you wouldn’t like the answer to”, he warned his eyes now dangerous. “This was always going to happen, you’d be a fool to think otherwise”. An admission to guilt if he ever heard one. Clearly she deciphered his words. Her eyes closed at his words and her head fell back against the wall.

She breathed in shakily as he watched a single tear track down her cheek, instinctively his thumb swiped it away and her eyes reopened, bleary once again.

“Kiss me”, she instructed for the first time and he frowned in confusion. “Draco, kiss me”, she repeated this time more insistently. She’d made it a rule that they were never to kiss during their trysts because she thought it was too much, it’d twine them together more intimately. He’d agreed, due to the fact those mudblood lips wouldn’t touch him anywhere but his prick, so the request took him aback.

“No”, he replied, of course he wanted to, he’d always wondered what her lush lips would taste like, he always had to drown out the desire to take them. “I’m done lusting over a Mudblood”, his internal confession angered him, so who better to take it on than her.

“Liar”, she surged toward him and murmured against the sensitive spot where his neck meant his jaw, “you’re a fucking l-“

He cut her off, clutching her cheeks in a single hand, as he plunged his tongue into her mouth, the initial shock meant she didn’t react, until she did. She grabbed at his shirt, as she pushed into the kiss, her tongue battling his for dominance. Granger tasted better than he could’ve imagined. He didn’t like the thought and ripped his lips away. “There you go, call me charitable”, he spat, her face still resting in his clutch, as he looked at her lips, now puffed up as a result of their actions. Her lips delicately remained open, having not recovered.

She blinked. And again. And then her lips were attached to his once again. His hands moved and he splayed his fingers round the nape of her neck as his thumbs touched her cheeks, just in front of her ears. It was a clash of lips and tongues and teeth and then Granger was ripping his shirt open but he was too intoxicated in her kiss to react. She began unbuckling his belt and that’s when he was pulled out of his trance, he recoiled and she stopped her actions, her hands still on his belt. His heart was beating so hard and his blood rushing so fast, the noise reverberated to his ears, he pulled her hands up to his chest.

“Think about what your doing”, he warned, “I’m your enemy now”, _I will kill you if I have to_ he didn’t voice his thought, the fact unsettled him slightly but he didn’t show it. As always, her eyes looked up to reach his gaze. In response to his warning her hands trailed down his bare chest as she lowered herself to her knees once again. This time, he definitely relished at the sight. The irony didn’t escape him.

Once again, she began to work his belt open, “Does it annoy you?”, and then she pulled it out of his belt loops. The rush to his southern region felt more intense than any sexual interaction he’d had before. “That a mudblood can have this effect on your superior Pureblooded self?”, her line of enquiry continued as she released the button of his trousers from its constraint. “That I, Hermione Granger, am the source of your pleasure?”, she lowered the zip and he thought the sound was enough to give him release. The buildup was immaculate.

“Yes”, he sighed, he answered candidly as she pulled down his trouser, his hands twitching at his side. Granger smirked up at him, a smirk he recognised as his own.

“Good”, she breathed against him before taking him in her pert mouth. Immediately, his hands went to her hair and held it back, allowing him some control over her movements, meaning he’d be able to keep a pace he’d prefer.

She used her hands to twist his base as she sucked just the tip of his cock, he felt the pit of his stomach tighten in response. “Fuck”, the word escaped his lips as she took his further into her mouth, the pleasure combined with thoughts of her words had amassed into a blurry state of mind. He closed his eyes as his head tipped back, thanking Merlin for the witch on his dick.

He looked down and, as if on an invisible tether, Hermione looked straight up at him and his knees almost buckled, he surged deeper into her warm mouth and moaned when she swirled her tongue round him as she sucked, her cheeks hollowed out.

He urged her to move faster as he twisted all her hair round one fist, and she complied taking him at the speed he desired. How lucky was he to have the brightest witch of their age down on her knees worshiping his cock, a secret he’d have to take to his grave. The thoughts that constantly filtered through his mind were against his will and as usual the irritation returned. He halted her movements and bucked his member into her mouth. Effectively fucking her face. No matter how hard or how fast he moved, she never stopped and Never gave up, even as she gagged due to the force, she was just that damn good. He snapped.

“Get up”, he instructed harshly yet she did as she was told and stood coyly after wiping her face with her arm. The innocence that she presented was the final straw. He spun her round once again pushed her against the wall, she gasped, her ass against his dick.

“Draco”, her breathy tone escaped her as he opened her shirt from behind and drag hers arms out of it. The tone told him everything he needed to know. She wanted him, even after everything she knew. Even after she knew he was a Deatheater. The reminder caused him to roughly flip up her skirt and snake his hand into her knickers.

The first contact was sensory overload. Her moan combined with her throwing her head back onto his chest and the slickness he felt, he felt like he was in heaven. If heaven was in the form of a mudblood.

“You’re so wet”,he ground out against her neck as he inserted two fingers into her. “You’re always so wet for me”, he added, his passion fully consuming him at this point. All clear thought had escaped him.

She twisted her neck to face him as his fingers started to fuck her, her mouth agape and eyes fluttering closed in pleasure. It was too much. He used his other hand to pull down the material hindering his plans and thrust into her, her scream delighting him. “So fucking tight, Granger”, he loved that each time they banged it felt like the first time. Then, as he began to work himself in and out of her, he pushed her forward and she brace her hands on to the wall. “Good girl”, he muttered, rolling up the sleeves of his ripped open shirt, before he took hold of her hips to impale her back onto his long member.

After a few thrusts, they got into a rhythm of it and she started to moan, the sound like music to his ears. Opening her bra, he removed it before pulling her back against his chest, the new angle felt glorious. He roughly grabbed her breast as he fucked her from behind. He always preferred to do it from behind as he could forget momentarily who it was he was shagging. Some time passed and Draco was now using his spare hand to work on her clit, he could feel her clenching around him as she shook uncontrollably.

Then the tears started.

“What have you done to me”, she whispered frantically, “ _what have you done to me_?!”, she cried out loud this time, as if in agony. Nothing like this has ever happened before. But he understood it. Ever since that fateful day at the top of astronomy tower where he’d taken her innocence after he found her crying over the pathetic weasel and his stupid bint of a girlfriend, he wondered how long she’d continue this fucked up charade. Clearly the veil clouding her judgement was lifting.

He looked at her. He really looked at her, she was crumbling before his very eyes, her eyes, however, were trained on the newly added dark mark etched on his forearm. The shame that flooded him was involuntary.

“I’m sorry”, for the first time in his life he apologised to her and whether it was because they were in the throes of passion or not, he genuinely meant it. He continued his actions and if anything moved against her harder and grabbed her breast rougher. She would _definitely_ be bruised everywhere after this. Her arms were twisted up around his neck and in his hair, roughly pulling. “I’m. So. Fucking. Sorry”, he ground out each word with a thrust and it was clearly her breaking point.

She howled out as if in pain but he knew the pain she felt wasn’t due to what he was doing physically to her, it was a mental pain. She twisted her neck and apprehended his lips with hers, the first time they’d shared a kiss whilst they fucked. The shock of the kiss momentarily stunned him to the point he didn’t realise she was off his dick until she sunk herself back onto it, this time face forward, continuing their snog. He grasped her legs and pulled them up where she receptively obliged and wrapped them round his waist. Her arms were also now winded tightly round his back. She was clutching onto him like her life depended on it, even after he leaned her back against the wall.

Tears began streaming down her face and he felt the wetness on his own cheeks as it mingled into their kiss. Nevertheless, she still continued moving against him, moaning and gasping into his mouth. If she hadn’t been receptive he would’ve stopped there and then. But then her mouth sloppily ripped away and she murmured, “Look what you’ve done to me”, she sobbed sounding like a devastatingly desperate woman, her eyes closed and to the sky whilst her back arched, pushing her breast against him.

Draco didn’t want to look at her, he didn’t need that extra guilt gnawing at him. Instead he buried his face into his neck, as he fucked her into the wall. After he bit down particularly hard he felt the metallic tang of blood on his tongue. He had actually _tasted_ her muddy blood but… he hadn’t been revolted like he should’ve been. It smeared around the wound and he made a shocking realisation, proof it was just as red as his.

She came soon after, she always did, he always made sure of that. Her body convulsed as orgasm took over. Riding out her high, she moaned near his ear, the sound entirely enticing. He willed himself to last longer, he never wanted this sensation to end especially he knew there was a high chance this was it. Her final dalliance with his darkness. With proof of what he was now stamped on skin, she wouldn’t be able to delude herself anymore. Hermione’s post orgasmic glow was the only real light in life.

With that thought lingering, his attempts to last longer were to no avail. He slowed down his pace as he began to find his release, savouring the feel of her tightness with long, languish strokes. Her moans intensified as she felt his liquid fill her and he pushed himself fully into her, audibly groaning and grinding his hips in her navel. With a few final brutal thrusts, he was completely spent.

Hermione’s whole demeanour fell. Her body almost corpse like, still wrapped around his body, her chin resting on shoulder. The only indication of her being alive was the fluttering he felt around his still sheathed member.

“Hermione?”, his voice was coarse, as if he hadn’t touched a drop of water in years. He wasn’t sure why he’d used her given name, even though she used his, he’d never deterred from calling her Granger. He swallowed deeply, “Granger, you need to let me go”, he said almost tenderly. Quite the double entendre.

“I know”, he felt her lips move against his shoulder more than he heard the words. She was marked by him in all ways, the bite mark on her neck, the bruises on her skin and his fingerprints marred her body like a work of art. _His masterpiece_. Draco felt a weird sensation in his bones, nothing alike anything he’d ever felt before. When his father would beat him, or curse him, he’d feel excruciating pain but this was different. The sensation was wholly foreign.

That night, when he’d let Deatheaters into Hogwarts, he accepted the fate he was always destined to follow. A fate that didn’t include shagging Hermione Granger ever again, the thought irked him like an itch he couldn’t rid.

Months later, Draco would come to learn that feeling in his bones would return as he watched his aunt torture Hermione Granger on the floor of home. The Cruciatus Curse hit her again and again as he could do nothing but stand idly by even though internally he was down on his knees.

He’d hoped falsely identifying Potter would be enough to keep her safe. Oh how he was wrong. The burning in his bones threatened to consume him as her screams, her tortured screams, so unlike the screams of pleasure he was used to escaping her lips. These screams were hoarse, the raucous consuming him. Oh how his fingers itched to do something. But he knew any attempt to save her would be futile. In this story, he was on the bad side, her on the good. He was Pureblood and she was a Mudblood. He’d get himself killed in the process. And then no doubt his parents would be punished for his insolence.

No, he couldn’t do anything for her. The thought annoyed him more than it should’ve.

The feeling in his bones hadn’t returned, much to Draco’s relief, for many years. He’d almost forgotten it. He’d dated esteemed Pureblooded witches and he’d shagged more than he could count but each time, no matter how stunning they were or how drunk he was, his mind would always reel back to his childhood trysts. More specifically her.

Then one day, the news broke. Hermione Granger, brightest witch of their age, was engaged to Ronald Weasley. The absent ache in bones returned in bouts.

She was going to marry a bumbling, red headed dimwit who had nothing going for him. He’d probably make her breed like the vermin he was, the thought revolted him. Even though Granger would always be a Mudblood, she was still way out of weasels league yet there was nothing he could do about it. Draco realised, just as it was his fate to serve the Dark Lord, this had always been her fate, he’d just been a blip on her path there.

It took him all these years to admit it, but she had been right that final day in the bathroom when she’d begged on her knees. He had cared. And he still did. It went beyond care, the never fading thrumming of his bones as evidence.

He had taken it upon himself to start drinking, to temporarily dull the throbbing he always felt. He soon realised drinking did nothing but allow his mind to delve back into those forgotten memories of touches and debauchery. He relished in it. He drowned himself in firewhisky and every night he fell to his knees, in front of Merlin, seeking mercy on his heart.

Draco Malfoy was in love with Hermione Granger. But he was seven years too late. So instead he’d drink himself into a numbing stupor, until one day he’d black out permanently. That was the plan.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys, I am contemplating continuing this story, is that something you’d like to see ? Let me know !


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